


unbearable

by acheforhim



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crossdressing, Don't copy to another site, Halloween, Light Spanking, M/M, Omega Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acheforhim/pseuds/acheforhim
Summary: When Bucky goes out to help Natasha get ready for the Halloween party, he’s wearing a bear onesie.He comes back wearing something else.(He and Steve don’t make it to the party.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 288





	unbearable

**Author's Note:**

> if you're wondering why a halloween fic is being posted at the end of june remember that time has always been fake but it's especially fake right now
> 
> [here](https://currentinfo.carrd.co/) are [two](https://issuesintheworld.carrd.co/) carrds that compile info on world issues and ways we can help
> 
> please do not type a/b/o without the slashes, that's an ethnic slur. either use the slashes or another term, such as omegaverse

“I’m gonna help Natasha with her makeup,” Bucky said and waved his metal fingers briefly before cupping Steve’s cheek. “I’m good with eyeliner.”

“Okay,” Steve replied, hugging him close. “Should I meet you downstairs?”

“No. I’ll come get you,” Bucky promised, tilting his chin up for a kiss. He lingered into it, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and pressing close.

“This feels weird when you’re a bear,” Steve mumbled into the kiss, and Bucky pulled away to laugh. He was _really fucking cute_ in his bear onesie and he knew it.

“It’s really soft. And comfortable,” Bucky said, wiggling against him, and it was true. Steve has a hard time keeping his hands off him on a good day, and the onesie’s soft material made it near impossible. “Makes me feel cuddly.” Made him look it, too.

“Are you trying to get me to stay in instead of going to the party?” Steve asked, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Not like there won’t be another one in a month.”

“But it won’t be Halloween,” Steve pointed out, to which Bucky just hummed and nuzzled into Steve’s cheek. “I’ll put my costume on while you’re helping Nat.”

“You know you don’t actually have to wear it, right?”

“I know,” Steve said. He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and then made himself let go of him.

Bucky visibly stifled a sigh and turned around to leave. He reached up to pull his eared hood on, but Steve’s gaze was drawn to Bucky’s lower back where a round little tail protruded from the fluffy fabric.

“Stop looking at my ass,” Bucky said without turning back.

Steve laughed. “I wasn’t even—” but Bucky shut the door before he could finish. He shook his head and went to the bedroom to get his costume.

That was half an hour ago.

Steve is now sat on their couch, idly sketching sad cartoonish bears and getting distracted by his own costume. It’s a cheap replica of his USO suit, a tight spandex thing that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. All the different elements of it are not sewn but painted on, and it all looks like it’s been painted directly onto _him_ , which is probably exactly why Bucky bought it for him. It’s a bit too much for company, though, and Steve is considering getting up to change when the door clicks open and shut.

He goes to the entryway, smiling, anticipating Bucky’s reaction to seeing him in his costume, but then he is completely caught off his guard by seeing the way _Bucky_ looks.

He’s leaning back on the door, hands behind his back, looking at Steve, and his fluffy onesie is nowhere to be seen. Instead of that he’s wearing—he’s wearing a goddamn cheerleading outfit, black and white and skintight. His hair is up in a loose bun, a few stray locks framing his face and making him look that much softer. Steve’s gaze doesn’t stay long on his face, though; it keeps jumping from his eyes to his lips to his arms to the bare skin between his top and his _skirt_ and to his _thighs—_

“Bucky,” Steve finally manages to get out, and it’s almost a growl. Bucky shivers in reaction to it, but he stays at the door.

“Hi,” he replies, dragging his eyes over Steve, head to toe, noting the way the cheap costume clings to him. He’s clearly satisfied, but even though his lips twitch, he manages to keep his face mostly expressionless as they stare each other down.

Steve doubts he’s as successful at appearing unaffected.

“What’s this?” he asks, and Bucky looks down at his clothes, as if he doesn’t know how he looks, as if he doesn’t know the whole getup is making Steve’s mouth water.

“Natasha really liked my onesie,” Bucky says. “So we switched.”

“You _switched,_ ” Steve echoes, stalking closer. “So Natasha was going to wear something that was exactly your size?”

Bucky looks down again as if he’s just noticing the way the top and skirt fit him. “She could pull it off,” he says with a little shrug. “She could pull anything off.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, and he’s close enough to put his hands on Bucky, so he does that, places them on his waist where the skirt hugs it. Bucky presses into the touch immediately, pushing into his hold even though he’s still not reaching for him. “Did she help you get dressed?” Steve asks mildly.

He meets Bucky’s gaze, sees him calculating. Does he say no to placate Steve, or does he say yes to make him jealous?

“She didn’t,” he says quietly in the end. “She just helped me choose it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Wanted something an alpha would like.”

Another growl rumbles in Steve’s chest, and Bucky shifts again, clearly wanting but trying to restrain himself.

“Something an alpha would like,” Steve repeats and leans in to nose at Bucky’s neck, scent his arousal. “Don’t you know what I like?” Steve asks, his teeth grazing over Bucky’s skin. Bucky whines at that and tilts his head to the side, grabs Steve’s shirt to pull him even closer.

“I do,” he says, voice trembling. “She helped me pick out something else, too.”

Before Steve can ask, Bucky takes his hand and guides it under his skirt. Steve freezes as he feels the lace at his fingertips, and he pulls away just enough to see Bucky, to see the way his mouth is slightly agape, the way his chest is rising, the way he’s _trembling_ for him.

“Bucky,” Steve says, with feeling, moving both his hands over Bucky’s ass. He doesn’t stop, lets himself feel the light scratch of the lace, lets Bucky feel how much he likes it. He moves his fingers between his cheeks to feel the fabric is already soaked, and it makes Bucky whine and hide his face in Steve’s neck. “Fuck,” Steve whispers, pressing onto his hole over the panties. “Did you get wet on the way here? Thinking about what I was gonna do to you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, clinging to him now, almost grinding on his thigh. “ _Steve,_ ” he whines and lifts his chin up, nuzzles into Steve’s jaw for a moment before he kisses him, bites on his bottom lip gently. 

Steve groans and shifts until he has a better hold on him, then lifts him up. Bucky moans happily and wraps his legs around Steve’s waist as he carries him to the couch, not even patient enough to go all the way to the bedroom. He drops Bucky on his back unceremoniously, making Bucky laugh, and follows him down, settling between his legs. Bucky reaches up for him to pull him close so they can keep kissing, less desperate now and more content to have Steve on top of him. He reaches for the hem of Steve’s shirt and pulls it up, slowly slides his hands over the skin of Steve’s back. Steve pulls back a little, meaning to help, but as soon as he lifts his arms he hears the telltale crack of fabric stretching too far. He meets Bucky’s gaze and they both laugh, and Bucky reaches his left hand up to effortlessly rip the rest of the shirt off of Steve.

“Told you,” he says as he throws the fabric aside. “You didn’t even have to put it on.”

“Because you knew we wouldn’t even make it out,” Steve accuses.

“We are very much able to make out right here,” Bucky says and tries to pull him close again, but Steve just hums and sits back on his heels, just to see Bucky pout at him.

With a smirk, he places his hands above Bucky’s knees. He takes his time sliding them up and under Bucky’s skirt. He reveals his thighs little by little, teasing Bucky as much as himself, until finally the skirt is bunched up enough to reveal the red lace covering his cock. “Jesus, Bucky,” Steve whispers, and Bucky makes a small noise in his throat, pushes into his touch again. Steve meets his gaze, throbs at the need written there. He’s tempted to just pull the panties down and slide inside Bucky, give him what he needs, but instead he makes himself say, “Turn around.”

Bucky does so readily, shifting until he’s on his hands and knees, all but presenting for him, and Steve’s hands go back to him immediately. He flips the skirt onto Bucky’s lower back and takes the sight in, the way the lace hugs the curves of his ass, the way it’s darkened where Bucky is slick, the way that Bucky is rocking back and forth slightly, impatient, inviting. As he looks at the intricate pattern, Steve idly thinks about the fact that he has the exact same shade of red paint.

Bucky turns his head to look at him, smile half hidden in his shoulder. “Are you thinking of drawing me?” he asks, always aware of the way Steve’s mind works, knowing that he’d want to remember Bucky like this.

“I don’t know if I’ll get it right,” Steve says, his mouth dry with arousal. “I should take a picture.”

“I could pose for you.”

“I’d do anything but draw you if you did.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Bucky purrs, and then gasps when Steve gives him a little slap on the ass for it. “Again,” he says, burying his face in the arm of the couch, and Steve obliges, slapping the other cheek a little harder. It brings a little color to Bucky’s skin, and though the shade is nowhere near the red of his panties, it’s a pretty pink nonetheless. Pretty as the rest of him.

“So pretty,” he says out loud. The compliment makes Bucky let out a quiet little noise in return, and Steve wants him so much louder. He moves the panties to the side, not taking them off, giving himself just enough room to rub two fingers over Bucky’s perineum and the rim of his hole. 

“Steve,” Bucky whines immediately, jerking up so he can look back at him again. Steve meets his gaze as he slides his fingers in, thrusting shallowly. “Don’t tease,” Bucky begs, pushing back onto his fingers and trying to clench around them, get them deeper. “I want it _now._ ”

Steve hums and keeps fucking him with his fingers, just long enough to make Bucky believe that he’s gonna keep teasing him until Bucky begs. When Bucky drops his head in resignation, Steve pulls his fingers out completely, drawing his attention immediately. 

“Come get it, if you want it,” he says, shifting to sit properly on the couch, throwing an arm over the back of it and planting his feet on the floor. His gaze catches on the slick still on his fingers, and he spares a second to thank their past selves for thinking to get a cover for the couch, knowing they’d otherwise make a mess of it sooner or later. Still, for no reason other than wanting to keep things neat, just as Bucky turns on his side so he can look at Steve, he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

Bucky groans something that sounds like _Motherfucker_ under his breath, shooting up and crashing into Steve in an attempt to sit astride him, burying his hands in Steve’s hair so he can pull him into a bruising kiss. He moans into it, grinds into Steve’s stomach as if he can’t keep himself still. Steve pushes his top up to his armpits, and Bucky leans back to take it off, but Steve grabs his arms before he can lift them and shakes his head. He keeps it bunched up but still on, revealing enough for him to lean in and press kisses onto the skin of Bucky’s stomach, to suck on his nipples and make him moan. He does the same with the skirt, pulling it up enough to reveal Bucky’s bulging cock but not taking it off, making the whole outfit look obscene.

“You really like it?” Bucky asks quietly, and Steve almost laughs at the question before he processes the tentativeness in Bucky’s tone.

“You can feel how much I like it,” he says and pulls Bucky to sit on top of him, sit himself on his clothed cock. Bucky whines and grinds onto it, getting slick over the bottoms of Steve’s costume.

“I was hoping you would,” he says, breathless. “I imagined how you might react. Wondered if you’d just turn me around and fuck me against the door.”

“Almost did,” Steve admits, and Bucky whines.

“Got so wet thinking about it, I ruined them before I even got to you,” he says, looking down at his panties.

“I’ll get you more,” Steve promises. “Anything you want,” he rasps, and Bucky whines and tugs at the hem of his pants.

“Get them off,” he says, and Steve obeys, lifts up just enough to get them around his thighs, along with his underwear. He takes his cock in his hand, holds Bucky by the hip as he moves up eagerly and sinks onto him, holding the panties to the side himself this time. “Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, face screwed up, and Steve loves this, loves how Bucky gets every time, almost like he forgets how good it feels until he’s full of Steve again. “Fuck, Steve.”

“Yeah, Buck, come on,” he whispers, hands roaming over Bucky’s thighs and hips and pinching at his nipples, reaching up to tug the elastic off his messed up do and let his hair fall over his shoulders. Steve desperately wants to kiss him, but he can’t stop _looking_ at him, his outfit pushed to the side enough just so he can get fucked; it _does things_ to Steve. “So fucking good for me,” he says, and Bucky whines and rides him harder, braces himself on Steve’s shoulders and fucks himself on Steve’s cock like he needs it. 

Steve takes mercy on him after a while, taking a hold of his ass that makes Bucky let out a sharp moan of anticipation, and when Steve starts fucking up into him he leans in to kiss him messily, to whimper and offer little gasps of praise, little _yes, like that, fuck, alpha, fuck, fuck, fuck_ s that Steve drinks straight from his lips.

Steve knows he’s close when the words stop coming, when he can just hold onto him and moan and bite on Steve’s shoulder. “Touch yourself,” Steve murmurs, and Bucky whines and puts a palm over his cock, rubbing it over his panties. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that,” Steve praises, so fucking close himself, feeling his knot begin to swell. “So pretty, so fucking pretty like this, make yourself come for me,” he says, and Bucky _does,_ biting down on Steve’s shoulder to muffle the moan that rips through him as he shakes on top of Steve, as his hole clenches around Steve’s cock and makes him tumble over the edge right after Bucky. His knot locks them together, making Bucky shudder and gasp, and all Steve can do is hold onto him, mouth at his neck as they come down from it and try to regain their breathing.

When Bucky lifts his head, silently asking for a kiss, Steve gives it to him and carefully shifts them until Bucky is laying on his back, Steve covering him with his body. Bucky lets out a satisfied sigh at the comforting weight and holds him close, one of his hands sliding up his back to settle in his hair.

“I can’t believe Natasha knows why we’re not at the party,” Steve says after a while, and he feels Bucky’s answering laugh in his chest.

“Everyone knows why we’re not at the party,” Bucky says. When Steve lifts his head to raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, “Even if they don’t know the details, there aren’t many reasons you’d just bail without warning.”

“I guess so,” Steve says, rising up a little more to tug Bucky’s top down so it’s not bunched up uncomfortably at his back. His hands linger on Bucky’s chest as he smooths it down, and Bucky smirks up at him. “Shut up,” Steve says, and Bucky laughs.

“Guess I found a way to keep you where I want you.”

“I hate you.”

Bucky hums and grabs the hem of his skirt, slowly tugging it up so Steve can see where they’re still joined, see the mess of come and slick he made of Bucky.

Steve leans in to kiss him, a growl rumbling in his chest, knowing well he’ll always stay where Bucky wants him.

**Author's Note:**

> [tweeter](https://twitter.com/mordrecl)


End file.
